Royal Bonding Time
by TheTV-Junkie
Summary: Legolas is pining after Tauriel, much to Thranduil's dismay. However, the Elvenking easily sees through his beloved son's confused replacement behaviour and lures the prince into a sizzling scenario of illicit cravings and depraved debauchery. Once Legolas is effectively manipulated into giving in to his incestuous desires for his father, Tauriel is nothing but a receding memory.


**Disclaimer:** This story is based on characters and situations created by JRR Tolkien and owned by whoever may hold the rights in this very moment you're reading this, various publishers and their corporate affiliates. All recognisable characters/situations/events happening are copyrighted by their respective owners. No money is being made from this fic and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. I consider my musings respectful parodies with a frequent naughty/kinky tenor (Corresponding warnings are given to the best of my knowledge and belief), solely written for free entertainment purposes. Furthermore, writing fanfiction is not only fun for me but also therapy, so please be lenient. Flamers/haters will be burned at the stake anyway.^^ Lots of thanks to my dear beta 'WolfInTheShadows'! :)

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 **A/N:** I respectfully disregard a few of Tolkien's party pooper 'laws' (As indicated in 'What Tolkien Officially Said About Elf Sex'); if every writer stuck to it by the letter there would be no naughty Elven-centric fanfics at all. ;) So, this is simply my sick head-canon. *sorry not sorry*

 **TRIGGER WARNING!** While reading loads of The Hobbit-centric fanfiction I repeatedly came across the quite established ability of self-lubrication which seemed to be exclusively attributed to the race of Dwarves. Hence, I thought it only fair to provide the Elves with an equally useful physical trait.^^

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"Ada?" Legolas gave a distressed sound of utter confusion when his chest forcibly made contact with the polished surface of his father's beautifully crafted desk; momentarily leaving the young elf gasping for air.

He was not dignified with an answer but the titillating feeling of a warm, lithe body pressing demandingly against his rear. Smirking to himself, Thranduil leaned in closer over the prince's bent over form, grinding his hips purposefully against his nervously fidgeting son. Snaking one immaculate, bejewelled hand to the front of the younger elf's breeches, the king easily banished the offending fabric with nimble fingers, freeing his precious heir's twitching erection in the process. The younger elf tensed, half-heartedly trying to fight his father off but to no avail.

"Adar _, man cerig [Father, what are you doing]?"_ Legolas managed to croak out when he felt feathery strokes caressing his shaft, clouding his mind with arousal.

"Word has it you have been making a fool of yourself by pining for a certain red-headed elleth in front of the whole court," Thranduil purred before adding disapprovingly. " _Again_. You don't seem to realise that your actions reflect on me in a most unflattering fashion."

Legolas swallowed hard but did not comment on the accusation; he was well aware of the fact that Tauriel had been the proverbial apple of discord between him and his father way too often as of late.

"Now did I?" Came the prince's surprisingly defiant reply. "So what do you think you could possibly do to keep me from wooing her again, Hîr Vuin [My Lord]?"

Thranduil raised a brow at his son's sudden insubordination, not sure if he had misheard the hint of a challenge contained in his son's uncharacteristic retort.

"It seems," The king tried, a predatory grin tugging at the corner of his lips. "I will have to put you in your proper place, my little leaf," He cooed, his tongue darting out and laving lewdly at Legolas' hypersensitive ear-tip, the prince moaning softly in response. "And dispel your admittedly honourable, but inept attempts at courtship by granting you _that one dark desire_ no elleth nor ellon could ever provide you with."

Thranduil continued between skilful licks and nibbles while giving his son's ever growing elfhood another, more ardent stroke for emphasis. He was pleased to learn that the formerly smooth skin was now covered with little knobs from root to crown, not fully developedyet, but at quite an acceptable stage for his still relatively young age of merely fifty-two years.

Contented with this development the king finally spoke again, his hot breath ghosting over Legolas' ear while his other hand found its way into the younger elf's golden tresses. He tugged sharply, eliciting a hiss of discomfort from the prince. "Would you like that?"

"Aye, very much so." The younger elf all but breathed shakily, his cheeks flushed in both embarrassment and anticipation at his father's unmistakable proposal. "How did you know?"

Thranduil inwardly chuckled at his son's naïvety. His heir's depraved longings for his father's touch had smouldered so painfully obvious underneath the surface, it had almost hurt the proud king's feelings that Legolas had never plucked up the courage to act on them. Sexual relationships between one's own kin had become a little out of fashion over the millenia yet it was not unheard of, especially not amongst royalty. Unlike most other races in Middle-Earth and beyond, Elven Society deemed neither incest nor queer tendencies a frowned upon practice or even crime. With an eternal lifespan at hand, self-denial and abnegation had soon rendered themselves pointless virtues. Nonetheless, the Elves did wisely not to brag about it and keep up appearances in front of...not so open-minded species.

"Does it matter?" The elder blonde whispered, continuing his ministrations with merciless vigour.

"No." Legolas whimpered, helpless under the onslaught of soft lips, hot tongue and relentless fingers. Wriggling his hips in wordless consent, the fair-haired prince let his leggins pool around his ankles, ungracefully yet past caring, longingly giving his beloved father unhindered access to his most private parts. "I've dreamed of this for so long. Innumerable times." He confessed, bucking back encouragingly against Thranduil's still clad crotch. "Please Ada, fuck me."

"I would like nothing better, ion-nîn [my boy/my son]." Spurred on by his son's dirty choice of words, the king happily obliged, freeing his straining erection from the silky fabrics of his regal garments. The tell-tale rustle of clothes was accompanied by his hasty rummaging of the desk's upper drawer.

However, all of a sudden Thranduil seemed to hesitate. If this hadn't been their first time together, Legolas would already be thrashing underneath him, probably begging for mercy, but since they had never indulged in shared carnal pleasures so far, he was no longer certain if his overzealous son realised the likely painful consequences of the their imminent coupling. "Legolas, you are aware that your little escapades with Meludir will be nothing compared to my claiming, aren't you?" He elder elf said, genuinely concerned. "I'm not an Elfling, you know...?!"

Turning his head to meet his father's anxious gaze, Legolas spoke the words that assuaged the king's fears. "I've heard the tales of the spines, Ada. I know they initially hurt, but I'm more than willing to endure this pain in favour of a greater pleasure." The prince gave a sheepish smile that stood in stark contrast to his otherwise clearly lust-ridden face. "I trust you."

His heart swelling with pride, Thranduil returned the words of affection before sealing his eager son's lips with a searing kiss. "Av-'osto. Gi melin. [Don't be afraid. I love you.]"

Returning to the task at hand, the king resumed his rummaging until he produced an elegantly curved flask from the drawer. Pouring it's oily content on both his hands, Thranduil coated Legolas' puckered hole and inner walls copiously, leaving the impatient younger elf shuddering while Thranduil proceeded to deftly scissor him open. The prince was evidently revelling in his wanton need, his breathing hitching every time the king touched him intimately. Contrary to Legolas' adolescent little nubs, the king's spikes were fully fledged, now engorged with blood and no longer laying flat. They jutted out proudly, varying from a quarter an inch (= about 0.6 cm) to half an inch (= about 1.3 cm) in length, each a little different in width. Scrupulously, Thranduil made sure to cover the whole of his impressive penile spines in a sufficient amount of lube before aligning himself at his son's quivering entrance.

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Legolas held his breath when he felt the bulbous head of his Ada's length slowly pushing past his sphincter, the swollen ridges raking the insides of his tight channel until Thranduil's cock was fully sheathed, an intoxicating sensation of pained pleasure rushing through the prince's veins.

Giving an awed whimper, Legolas involuntarily clenched at the exciting feeling when he was given a moment to adjust, stealing a low groan from the king in response. "Please melethron [My Beloved/My Dear], don't tighten up or you might regret it."

Legolas questioningly blinked a few times, his pupils dilating at the not so hidden threat in his father's utterance. For a split-second "Bring it on!" was on the prince's lips, but then he refrained, timidly nodding in adorably naïve ignorance, ashamed of his own cravings and unaware of his father's equally rather deviant sexual preferences which definitely seemed to run in the family. Little did Legolas know that, if it had not been him, the mighty Elven king's relatively inexperienced son, sprawled upon Thranduil's ornate desk some random consort or frequent bedwarmer would have been in for the pounding of their lifetime, ravished punishingly into utter bliss.

Nevertheless, for the time being a certain degree of restraint was in order for both their sakes, so Thranduil cautiously placed a hand on Legolas' back for reassurance before drawing back and setting a steady, deep rhythm, the friction of the spines constantly stimulating that delicate gland within the prince's rear end which would soon have him seeing stars. Instinctively, Legolas began pushing himself back on the king's shaft, the tight walls of his ass gripping at it deliciously.

Groaning with pleasure, Thranduil's rich voice reverberated from the carved stone walls as he kept thrusting into his dear son's compliant body, spearing the younger elf's puckered hole again and again to the lewd sound of his balls slapping lewdly against his heir's arse. Grasping Legolas' hips, the king changed the angle of his thrusts slightly, causing the prince to feel the first flutters of orgasm upon him.

"Adaaaa!" Letting out a strangled moan the younger elf bucked helplessly, spilling himself with an astonishingly vocal cry all over his stomach and a few scrolls and papers that lay scattered across the elaborate study desk.

Before long, Thranduil followed him suit, roaring his completion while filling his son with a royal load of sticky seed. Despite the extreme rapture that rolled through him, Legolas suddenly felt Thranduil's shaft expand at the centre of his length instead of going limp, roughly expanding about a third in girth. Both father and son gave a sound of delight before Legolas whispered breathlessly. "Is that what I think it is?"

Eyelids heavy with post-orgasmic exaltation, Thranduil replied. "What _do_ you think it is?"

Experimentally, Legolas rolled his hips languidly back and forth a bit, only to find that he unintentionally dragged his father along with his every move. "So this is the knot?" The prince asked curiously. "We cannot part, aye?"

"Indeed." Thranduil confirmed, tentatively trying to pull out of his son but, as presumed correctly, failed. While the Valar designed penile spines to grant a more sensual sexual experience and equally more intense orgasms, Elvish nature provided for post-coital knotting in order to prevent the come from leaking out and strengthen the emotional bond between partners, making Elven conception almost 100% successful. Given that a female was involved, that is.

"At least not for a while," Having said that, the elder elf gently picked Legolas up and, still connected to each other, carried him over to the cozy king-size bed in the adjacent room. "Hence I think we might as well make ourselves comfortable, don't you think?"

"Aye." Legolas nodded wearily while the last flickers of ecstasy slowly faded, making way for a feeling of deep satisfaction as growing fatigue started to creep over his spent limbs.

Placing himself and the sleepy and sated elf in his arms carefully upon the lavishly embroidered bedding, Thranduil spooned up behind Legolas, nuzzling his neck lovingly. "How do you feel, ion-nîn?"

The prince snuggled up even closer against his father, feeling safe and protected in his arms. "I think...content. Happy. And very sated." He turned his head to smile at Thranduil, pressing a timid kiss to the king's sensual lips who warmly returned the endearment. "Can we do that again?"

Thranduil stifled a snicker. "Of course. But just in case it slipped your mind, _I still am_ inside you, eager one."

"I'm quite aware of that." Legolas grinned, wriggling his hips suggestively. "Yet the pressure is declining little by little," The prince frowned. "Can't you...just stay there?" He asked, blushing to the tip of his pointy ears and the king couldn't help but once again muse about his son's obviously deep-rooting depravity. "At least until I have fallen asleep, can you? Please, Ada, this feels so good." Legolas almost whined like he used to when he was still an insolent elfling.

An amused smile ghosted over the king's features while he played with a tendril of his son's flaxen hair. "I never could deny you anything, now could I?" He purred, happily complying with the younger elf's twisted request, not minding a little cock warming at all.

There was much naughty potential in Legolas, Thranduil was sure of it. Smiling wickedly to himself, he was confident of being able to corrupt his precious child strongly enough to make the misguided and love-stricken prince completely forget about Tauriel; ensuring to not having some Silvan bastard sired in a moment of weakness and therewith soiling the pureblooded Sindarin heritage and royal line of his ancestors. Two birds, one stone. The king inwardly congratulated himself.

"No, you couldn't." Legolas beamed, then slowly drifted off to sleep happily, his mind with whirling with the excitement of the afternoon.

The End.

*･゜ﾟ･✿･゜ﾟ･*

 **A/N:** Ehehe, Elves with spiked cocks. I will _so_ stick to this in my future fics.^^ Comments very welcome. ヽ(^。^)丿

A toy pic (Minors, stay away! ;)) which gave me the idea for the look of the spines on adult elves and further reference information can be found here:

www DOT dropbox DOT com/s/dfbc6yw0kup8csv/464321339_1551254 DOT jpg

Further references: 

urbandictionary DOT com/define DOT php?term=knotting

wikipedia DOT org/wiki/Penile_spines

wikipedia DOT org/wiki/Hirsuties_coronae_glandis

curiouscox DOT wordpress DOT com/2011/12/22/prometheus-rising-the-barbed-penis/


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